Scatterbrained
by NadiaHarp
Summary: Sherlock, Watson, and Molly are out on a case, but need to stay at a hotel for a few nights... but there's only enough money for one room. WARNING: SLASH [explicit content]
1. Chapter 1

John Watson was off on another adventure with Sherlock Holmes. They had brought along their friend, Molly Hooper. After a long day, the companions had stopped in an unfamiliar town, and spent the evening at a bar. There was nothing to do with the case, so they decided to wait until morning. It was raining, and Sherlock was a little more than a little tipsy. As the night went on, Sherlock began to get grumpy (as he often does with alcohol), so they decided to find a hotel to stay at for the night.

Checking in at the front desk proved to be more difficult than originally planned. "How much for two rooms?" asked John, who seemed to be the most sober of the group.

"240 pounds," the lady behind the counter stated, with a hint of boredom behind her voice. "Two..? Two hundred and forty?" That was more than John had in his pockets at the moment… he turned around, "Sherlock?"

"Oh, no, I don't have any money – people just give me what I want. I'm the brilliant Sherlock Holmes!" Sherlock gestured around exuberantly.

"Sherlock…" John tried to hide his frustration. Molly whispered in his ear, "I think I have enough for one room… will that do?"

John looked up at the lady behind the counter. "Here, we have enough money for one room, we'll make do." Behind him, Sherlock was pacing in agitation.

The lady behind the desk nodded to Sherlock, "Your friend there has been enjoying himself tonight?" Molly shook her head in irritation, "So it would seem…" and she took the key from the desk and began to help Sherlock up the stairs to their room. John sighed, and followed a few paces behind.

John found Molly attempting to get Sherlock's slightly damp coat off. Sherlock wasn't helping by yelling and struggling to get away. "Molly, I can do it myself! Now get OFF me!"

"I'm just trying to help," she protested. She finally gave up, and huffed over to the other side of the room. John heard her mutter, "Why is he always so bloody infuriating?"

John moved over to Sherlock's side. He was dripping water from his hair onto the bed now, and his damp coat was hanging lopsided over his shoulders. John sighed "Sherlock, you're getting water everywhere." He put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock shrugged it off, but when John began to take the wet coat off his shoulders, Sherlock didn't resist. Molly watched from the corner. Sherlock stumbled into the bathroom to take a cold shower and get out of his wet clothes.

Molly sat down on the bed next to John, "How are you so good with him?"

"Hm?" John looked quizzically at Molly.

"Like, you know exactly what to do to calm him down."

John shook his head, "I mean, we just 'get' each other, I suppose."

Molly stared wistfully at the door, behind which Sherlock was showering, "I just wish I knew how to 'get' Sherlock Holmes."

When Sherlock came out of the shower, he settled onto the bed nearest the door. John was already asleep of the other bed, and Sherlock didn't feel like disturbing him. Molly was nowhere to be seen, so he decided to just lay his clothes out to dry, and crawled under the blankets in his birthday suit. He muttered under his breath, "Damn it, I forgot the light switch."

"I've got it, Sherlock," John rolled out of bed and turned the light out for Sherlock. He stood in the dark for a moment, just letting his eyes adjust.

Sherlock muttered again, "Well don't just stand there, John. Go to sleep or something."

John chuckled, "Whatever you say, Sherlock," and climbed back into bed.

Later, when Molly came back, she slowly opened the door to the hotel room, and upon noticing the darkness, entered quietly. She couldn't tell who it was in the bed in front of her. _Curse the darkness_, she thought, but she secretly hoped it was Sherlock. She took off her white coat, and began to undo the braids in her hair. Her shoes and stockings were soaked through, and she tried to be as quiet as possible while removing them. The bed nearest her was definitely occupied by someone. As he rolled over, Molly noticed the dark curls of Sherlock's hair peak out over the top of the covers.

She slipped out of her dress, and pulled the covers down on Sherlock's bed. She boldly moved in closer to him so that their bodies were nearly touching. As she ran a hand over his back, she noticed he wasn't wearing anything at all. She blushed and recoiled. Sherlock rolled over to face her, and seemed unaware of her presence in his bed. Her unbound hair fell over her face, and she hoped it would hide her enough.

Sherlock moved closer to Molly, still quite definitely asleep. She made a tiny noise under her breath, and moved her hand inches toward his face. She dared to touch his lips, and heard him moan a little in his sleep. She lingered as long as she could stand, and he murmured, "John, is that you?" Molly pulled back, disappointed. Maybe sleep was best after all.

In the morning, Molly awoke slowly. She realized she was alone in the bed, but Sherlock's side was still warm. She felt a warm hand on her back, "Sherlock!" she exclaimed. But it was John. "Oh, blimey," he stammered, "thought you were Sherlock…"

"I did too," Molly replied. John looked around bewildered, "Why? Why does he always DO that? Just take off without a word?"


	2. Chapter 2

Molly had just left to get more ice for their drinks. John and Sherlock sat together on the bed. They had spent the evening drinking again to take the edge off after the second day on the case. John had had a little too much to drink, and was leaning on Sherlock's shoulder for stability.

"John," Sherlock murmured.

John moved a little bit, sleepily, "Hmm…?"

Sherlock said nothing.

"What?" John turned his head around and their noses brushed up against each other. John looked bewildered into Sherlock's silent stare. Sherlock tilted his head to the side just slightly, as if he was about to say something. But before he could say a word, John took charge and leaned into a kiss. Sherlock's eyes widened, but he did not pull away.

John finished the kiss, and announced, "There! There, I did it. Deduce THAT, Mr. DetectivePants." He nodded his head, and turned back around to lean on Sherlock's shoulder. There was silence.

"John."

John whipped around a second time, "What?"

"Pass me my phone."

Before John could say anything to that, Molly came back from collecting ice from down the hall. "Oh, am I, am I… interrupting anything?" she stammered. John lunged away from Sherlock in a buzzed daze.

"No, no, Molly," Sherlock said coolly, "nothing at all." John just shook his head and slid to the floor beside the bed. Molly, still slightly confused, left the room again.

"Jesus, Sherlock! Now you've gone and upset her." Sherlock leaned over side of the bed to rest his head on John's shoulder this time. John's head lolled over to Sherlock's, and their heads bumped.

"Don't think about Molly right now, John… Not at a time like this." Sherlock's nose brushed John's ear, tickling him.

"Sherlock, what're you…?"

Sherlock interrupted John's stuttering with a bold kiss on the mouth. John's surprise turned quickly to a secret bubble of joy that erupted inside of him. He never dreamed that this would ever actually happen. John reached up an arm to cradle the back of Sherlock's neck, and pressed deeper into the kiss.

Sherlock dragged John back up onto the bed. John quivered at Sherlock's soft touch, and wanted to savor every moment. He felt himself getting hard, and a warmth spread over him that he'd never felt before. The world seemed to drop away around them, and all that mattered was each other. _Christ, I never thought this would ever, ever happen, _though John in a haze of sudden passion. Sherlock's hands found their way to unexpected places. John was underneath Sherlock's hot body, and he was drowning John with millions of tiny kisses. Both men were wondering why this had never happened before.

Sherlock whispered in John's ear, "I never knew I wanted this so badly."

"Don't waste time with words, Sherlock!" John growled, and kissed him hard on the mouth again. Sherlock began to tear John's shirt off in an effort to get closer to the skin beneath. John let out a soft moan and then bit hard on his own lip in order to stifle the sound.

Sherlock hastened to remove his pants, but in his buzzed state, could only unfasten the belt. John chuckled to himself, and helped the man removed his pant. The sight of what lay underneath only made John harder. His body ached to see and touch more. He pulled Sherlock closer to him, raking his nails into the strong shoulder blades of the well-built detective. Sherlock was somewhat more successful in pulling off John's jeans, but still had some struggle. John was surprised to see how hard and ready his own was. Sherlock trailed a finger down from John's chin all the way down his chest and stomach. John's body arched and he couldn't contain his passion any more. The moment their bodies collided, both men could barely breathe from the overwhelming sensation. They began kissing long and hard, not stopping to wonder if they really wanted this or if they should take it slow. Sherlock wasn't asking permission for anything, and John didn't mind in the least.

The passion lasted for what seemed like hours, and when both men had had more than their share of near-painful pleasure, they crashed down on the bed, dripping in their own sweat.

After a few moments of heavy breathing, John blinked his eyes in disbelief, and asked, "Am I dreaming…?"

Sherlock leaned over John's sex-glowing body and kissed him passionately. "No, John."

"_Jesus_, Am I dead?"

"John! I certainly hope not! If you were dead, you would not have retained any consciousness because when people die, they rot in the ground, and that's the—"

"Sherlock!" It was John's turn to yell. "Spare me the bloody details, you twat! I know I'm not dead."

"I just don't want you deluded into thinking there's life after death or anything like that, John."

John hit Sherlock hard with a pillow.

Sherlock grabbed the pillow to stop John from hitting him again, and looked directly into his eyes. "I love you, John."

John smiled, but he attempted to hide it. "I know… idiot."

"Because, I'm not sure if you knew that…"

"Yeah, I sorta figured it out, Sherlock!" John immediately regretted his irritated tone, and softened. He rested his head against Sherlock's chest. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"John, will you pass me my phone?"

"Sherlock!" John looked bewildered. "What are you on about?"

"I just need to update my relationship status."

John hit him with a pillow again. "You're not doing that, you bloody idiot."

Sherlock shrugged, "Why not?"

"Wait, are you asking me out?"

"Why not?" Sherlock reached out and ran a finger across John's nose.

"Sherlock! You can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious in my life."

"Okay, well if that will satisfy you, then I'll allow it."

There was a brief silence, and then, "John?"

"What is it?"

"Would you…? Oh, just pass it here, John!"

John shook his head. "You'll have to get it yourself – I'm going to sleep."

Sherlock leaned across John and made 'obnoxious effort' noises, crushing John's body in the process. John protested, but realized it was too late. Sherlock was being annoying on purpose to get what he wanted. Sherlock elbowed John in the chest on the way back to his side of the bed, and John shoved him to make him go faster. He enjoyed the childish flirting they were engaging in. Sherlock settled in, and began typing away on his phone. John looked over Sherlock's shoulder, and saw that – indeed – the idiot had changed his facebook relationship status to say "in a relationship."

"I'm just waiting for you to respond, Watson."

"I'll change it in the morning, idiot." He blushed as he said this.

They drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, and when Molly came back, she found a tangle of arms and legs and phones in one bed, and realized that the only option was to take the vacant bed. She sighed, and touched the tips of Sherlock's curls before turning her back on the newfound lovers, knowing that he was something that would never be hers. Just as she was about to get in her own bed, she heard fragments of attempted words behind her. "What was that?" she asked the darkness.

"I don't mind sharing, you know." John whispered. "I've seen how you look at him."

John heard Molly's nearly inaudible gasp. "You mean.. I can.."

"Come on, Molly." John took her hand, and looked her in the eyes. "I know Sherlock won't mind."

She walked, almost trancelike, to the other side of the bed, and slipped in on Sherlock's other side.

Sherlock stirred. "Molly?"

"It's ok, Sherlock," John murmured. "Let her in."

Molly moved in closer to Sherlock, and he wrapped his arm around her. She sighed in near disbelief, and closed her eyes. She was asleep before she could even begin to comprehend what was happening.

Light streamed in through the hotel room's red curtains. The morning light drained through to greet the sleeping eyes of the occupants. John's hand started moving before sleep left his head. His eyes opened blurrily, and he stared at the pillow next to him where Sherlock had been the night before. He locked eyes with Molly, who was across the bed from him. They both shook their heads at the absurdity of their socially-confused friend.

In unison, they exclaimed, "SHERLOCK!"


End file.
